


Possible (29/39)

by Mexta



Series: Possible [29]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: M/M, post-412
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-26
Updated: 2014-10-26
Packaged: 2018-02-22 18:44:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,162
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2517932
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mexta/pseuds/Mexta
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is ready </p>
<p>(somewhat NSFW)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possible (29/39)

Ian did in fact suggest they return to Jackhammer a couple of weeks later, and Mickey agreed to go on the weekend. The next day at school he told Sam their plans, and sure enough when they arrived at the club on Sunday night, Sam was already there. 

"Hey," Ian said, nudging Mickey. "There's that guy Sam. You okay with him?"

"Course," Mickey said, and it occurred to him that as far as Ian knew he and Sam hadn't seen each other since that aborted encounter in the back room. No doubt Ian would expect things to be awkward between them.

Probably trying to spare Mickey's feelings, Ian didn't approach Sam; but after a while Sam sauntered over and Mickey made a half-hearted attempt to look mildly uncomfortable. It was odd to be hiding so much from Ian, but Mickey had hidden so many things for so long in his life that it was still second nature to him.

They ended up hanging out together for most of that night -- staying upstairs this time -- and as they left Sam suggested getting together for a beer. Mickey was impressed at how naturally Sam did it, and Ian seemed impressed at how cool Mickey was with Sam, so Mickey figured it was win-win all around.

A few days later they arranged to meet Sam at the Alibi, and soon the three of them were regular companions. Mickey still saw Sam almost every day at school and once in a while, when they were out with Ian and Sam mentioned something about his program, Mickey had to bite his tongue so he didn't give anything away. But overall he kind of liked having someone he could talk to at school and share with Ian as well.

"You can still fuck him if you want," Ian said as the two of them walked home from the Alibi one night.

"Don't wanna fuck him," Mickey said mechanically.

"He's a good looking guy."

"Don't need him. You're almost back in the game."

"You don't know that."

"I fucking know, man." 

"But seriously. He's hot."

"So you fuck him."

Ian laughed. "Maybe I would if I could."

Mickey gave him a sharp look. "You gotta do me first."

"Promise." Ian slid an arm around Mickey's waist. "You first."

"We could always have a three-way with him later."

"Sounds fun."

"I'll tell him ... " Mickey almost added, " ... at school tomorrow," before he caught himself. "Sometime."

***

They often dropped by the Jackhammer on weekends now, and had grown friendly with several of the regulars as well as Sam. Mickey found it comfortable and didn't mind the crowd; maybe it was because, unlike most of the patrons at the Fairy Tale, these guys hadn't enjoyed lapdances from his boyfriend or ogled him onstage.

Sam generally hung out with them upstairs until toward the end of the evening, when he would gear himself up and head to the basement for a bit of backroom action. Mickey and Ian hadn't ventured down the stairs since that first time, which was fine with Mickey.

Until one night, when Sam began his usual preparations, and Ian abruptly announced, "Hey, we're going with you tonight."

"Wha-?" Mickey said, taken off guard. "We are?"

"Yeah." Ian leaned over and hissed in his ear. " _I think I'm ready_." 

Mickey didn't need to ask what he was ready for. The sudden promise almost made his eyes glaze. " _Really_?"

"If you are." Ian squeezed Mickey's arm. "Back room okay if I can get it up? Might not keep till we get home."

"Hot damn, Gallagher. I'll take it wherever you got it."

Sam gave them a wink and Ian laughed and together they threaded their way through the crowd to the stairs. As Mickey fumbled with the buttons of his shirt, his fingers suddenly clumsy with nervous energy, Ian leaned over to help. In another moment Mickey was reaching under Ian's shirt, pushing it up, grabbing his hips, the two of them falling against each other in their excitement.

Finally shirtless, they ran down the steps, Ian leading the way. When they stepped through the door at the bottom, the frenetic mood of the room hit Mickey instantly -- noise, fleeting images, the musk of sweat and sex -- overwhelming but strangely familiar this time. Mickey started for the back room with mindless fixation, tugging Ian behind him, but Ian stopped and pulled him back. 

"Let's check out the action for a bit," he shouted in Mickey's ear, over the din of the music and voices. "Make sure I've got a full head of steam."

Mickey had no interest in any other action, but he definitely had an interest in Ian's condition so he reluctantly let himself be led toward a crowd at the centre of the room. Once his eyes got used to the darkness and he was able to catch a glimpse between the taller figures forming a ring in front of him, he could make out the bathtub he'd seen last time, only now it seemed to be occupied by a couple of smaller shapes -- boys, he realized after a moment; nearly naked boys, clad only in shorts, and ... wet? How did they ... Oh. Now he could see the men at the front of the circle, exchanging lewd, laughing comments, fists closed tightly around the front of their open jeans.

"Jesus, Ian ... " Mickey said, turning away.

"Watersports not your thing?" Ian dug an elbow in his ribs, not fazed at all. "C'mon, let's go see what else is going on."

"I'll get the beer. You go look for something that gets you hard. Harder," Mickey added with an appreciative grin at Ian's crotch. 

When he'd fought his way to the bar and ordered drinks, Mickey turned to survey the room again. He'd forgotten how potent the combination of music, men and porn could be. That and Ian's suggestion upstairs had already done a number on him; he just hoped it was having a similar impact on Ian. 

With bottles in hand, he located Ian standing by a smaller crowd of men on one side of the room and went to join him. Coming closer, Mickey saw a large, hairy biker type on his knees in front of a taller, leaner younger man, clad in leather, legs apart, holding the back of the biker's head as it bobbed up and down in his crotch.

Mickey nudged Ian, handed him one of the bottles. "Black leather getting you hard, Gallagher?" he shouted into Ian's ear. With his free hand he reached down to check for himself. "Ay! Looky here," he grinned. "Just about ready ... "

Ian pulled Mickey in front of him, hands grabbing his ass to grind their hips together. "You suck my dick like that and I might be," Ian said

In a moment they were wrapped in each other's arms, mouths crushed together, tongues entangled; Mickey gripped Ian's hips and forced them closer till he could feel the long thick shaft of Ian's cock jutting through the fabric between them and pushing against his own. Mickey had never wanted a hard cock so badly; he half-expected to see sparks flying out from the places where they touched. 

It occurred to him suddenly that he and Ian were putting on a show of their own, and pulling away slightly he could see faces turned toward them with interest. "Fuck, Ian ... " he mumbled into Ian's ear. "C'mon man. Time to head for the back room."

Ian loosened his grip slightly, laughing to see their audience. "We could make a fortune doing this at the Fairy Tale ... " he told Mickey.

"Fuck the Fairy Tale," Mickey said, already pulling him toward the door in the back wall again. "Fuck these assholes. You're fucking me." 

"Hang on a sec." Ian stopped in his tracks and scanned the room for a second. "There he is. Come on."

Mickey followed Ian's gaze and saw Sam. "The fuck? You don't really want a three-way, do you? You promised ... "

"No, you dope." Ian shoved his way over to Sam, who was making out with a short-haired, younger guy. "Hey, buddy. Where's your stash? Can I get a bump?"

Sam pulled his head away from younger man to say good-naturedly, "Sure, man." He extricated one hand enough to reach into a pocket and pull out the small vial he always had with him when he was clubbing. "Help yourself."

"Thanks." Ian handed his beer to Mickey to free his hands, and had the vial open before Mickey was able to put words to his vague feeling of disquiet.

"You sure that's a good idea, Gallagher?"

"You want me to stay hard, don't you? This'll keep the edge on."

"Yeah, but aren't you ... isn't there --"

"Jesus, Mickey, relax." Ian inhaled quickly and wiped the back of his thumb against his nose. "But not too relaxed." He squeezed Mickey's dick with one hand as he passed the vial back to Sam with the other. "C'mon. I'm definitely ready now."

Grabbing Mickey's hand, Ian threaded his way through the crowd, still pausing now and again to admire the various obscene activities going on among the other patrons and projected on the walls around them. It was a struggle for Mickey not to either throw Ian over his shoulder and carry him into the back, or shove him against a wall and go down on him there in the room.

At last they made it to the door. Mickey pulled it open and practically shoved Ian inside. They paused to adjust to the light -- the cavern-like interior glowed with a few coloured lamps that made it just possible to make out the other figures in the room. 

Ian stood in the doorway for a moment, like he needed to orient himself. As the door shut behind them, the music and noise from the other room was muted, and other sounds became audible from within. Dim shapes grew more visible, bare flesh glowing a little in the gloom. Mickey left Ian to get adjusted and moved into the room, looking around for spare wall space. When he saw an opening further inside, he went back to get Ian, and found him standing beside the door, motionless, with an oddly glazed expression. 

_Fuck_. Mickey's first thought was that he'd missed his window, but a quick glance toward Ian's dick reassured him. "You okay, man?" he asked.

Ian seemed to jerk back to life. "Yeah," he said. "Sure. You?"

"Me?" Mickey dragged Ian further into the room. "You're about to fuck me for the first time in, like, three months. How the fuck you think I'm doing?" They reached the empty space and Mickey shoved Ian against the wall. "This okay?"

Ian gave a slow glance around the room, like moving his head might make him dizzy. "Sure," he said, "I -- "

But Mickey fell on top of him, unable to wait any longer. He kissed Ian's mouth, hard and needy, one hand holding him in place and the other reaching down to Ian's  
cock through his jeans. All he could think about was Ian losing his hard-on before he felt it inside him. 

Ian stopped trying to talk and kissed back, and they groped and ground against each other for a few minutes, but Mickey was in a hurry. He moved his hips back enough to loosen his own pants, then undid Ian's belt and fly, mouth still pressed against Ian's. Once everything was open he pulled away, glanced once into Ian's glassy eyes, and dropped to his heels to pull down Ian's jeans and shorts and bury his head in Ian's crotch. 

"Oh, shit ... " Ian whispered above him.

Mickey went to work feverishly, taking Ian's swollen cock almost fully into his mouth, tightening around it to form a suction, and dragging his tongue along the shaft. He moved up and down, trying to create friction with his lips, forgetting everyone and everything around him except the need to keep Ian's cock hard. 

"Mickey ... " 

He could hear Ian's voice faintly, trailing away into a strange kind of wheeze. Ian's hands gripped his shoulders, but they seemed to be moving erratically, fingers lifting jerkily away and then digging randomly into his flesh.

" _Mickey_." This time it came out as an urgent gasp, and Mickey stopped what he was doing and looked up at him. "I ... feel weird."

_Jesus Christ_. "I told ya you shouldn't have had that bump." For a tiny moment Mickey was almost annoyed; then he saw Ian's head loll back against the wall and caught a sudden flash of white as his eyes turned upward.

"You okay?" Mickey stood up and reached for Ian's shoulders. But his loose pants were slipping to his knees; he let go of Ian for a second to clutch at them, and in that second he felt the helpless, doomed sensation of something sliding out of his grasp, just before he heard the crash as Ian crumpled sideways to the floor.


End file.
